
First Time in L.A. by Archana Sridhar
The moon-faced old man hauls my suitcase Into the underbelly of the Buzz Lightyear Disney Express The velcro of his single black glove frays with each smile. Bienvenidos abordo I’m startled by the lavender-crayon flowers of the jacaranda Creeping shyly over washed-out stucco walls that Separate highway from houses, speed from sprawl. Neon signs spell “HIS NIBS CIGS” in the strip mall window. A fringe of Italian cypress peeks out from behind Layers of adobe tile that hide the